Believe
by Black-Raven3
Summary: They say seeing is believing. Too bad Sammy is the only one they want seeing them. Wee!chesters, dust bunnies, and disbelief. Complete
1. Believe 1

**Note**: This is more a series of short drabbles than an actual story. I had originally intended it to be just one solid story, but I kind of liked how it looked after I got done jotting down some of my random scene ideas, so I decided to keep it as is. I combined the biggest sections into one chapter, but in the 'drabble' chapter the scenes are broken up with "00000".

* * *

**-Believe-**

Sam knew from the very beginning that there was something not right about the new house that his father chose for their newest base of operations. For one, it had a working water heater. Most of the places they had lived previous did not have good water, let alone water that could be enjoyed hot.

Next was the fact that it had three bedrooms. For most of Sam's entire short life, he had always slept in the same room as his big brother, Dean. The very idea of not sleeping close to Dean was so repugnant that Sammy was sure that there must be universal laws against it.

Last, was the thing -or things- in his bedroom closet. When dust bunnies that live in a closet suddenly turn pink, sprout rabbit ears, and decide that they want you as their god, even a nine year old knows it's time to reassess the situation.

00000

He made first contact the very first night, mere seconds after one o'clock in the morning. He was scared and lonely, not being use to sleeping without his Dean or Dad there to protect him from the bad things that lived in the dark. He huddled down in his bed, threadbare blanket that usually covered the backseat of the Impala clutched to his chest. He jumped at every little sound, whether it be the creaking of the old house's floors, or a muted animal sound from outside his window, or even the shuffling sound made by his own nervous fidgeting.

The closet door was open slightly, giving just a hint of what monsters could be lurking inside. A slight and sudden draft from the window pane caused the closet door to creak slightly, and Sam whimpered as he gazed at the now larger opening. His little over active mind kept coming up with several different unpleasant scenarios that ended with a monster jumping out and eating him.

Another draft whistled through the window pane and Sam whimpered as the door creaked open even more, allowing him to see fully into the small space. His backpack and a small stack of boxes that came with the house created a menacing shadow along the floor, and the moving shadows created by the fluttering curtains complimented the scene perfectly.

Poor Sammy was trembling as he watched the shadows like a hawk. He wanted so badly to just get up and go huddle into bed with Dean. But lately his brother had been getting snappy at him, complaining about how clingy Sam was. He had even made him cry once the previous week when he had yelled at Sam for wanting Dean to go swimming with him in the river they had lived near before they had moved, instead of going out with friends like Dean had planned.

At this point he would even risk his Dad's wrath by going to sleep in his room. But he knew that his Dad was exhausted from researching what ever creature was hurting people in the town, and he did not want to disturb the man for something as silly as a childish fear. So Sam set his chin and frowned mulishly at the shadows, almost daring them to act unshadow-like. That, of course, was about the time when the shadows stopped acting like shadows, and started acting like tiny, miniature bunny rabbits. Sam's little heart almost stopped working when he caught sight of movement within the closet. A tiny shape detached itself from the deep darkness and hopped forward, almost exiting the closet.

In the dim light filtering in from a street lamp outside, Sam could barely make out the two long, pointed things sticking out of what he assumed was its head. When the long pointed things twitched suddenly, Sam assumed they were ears. It turned in his direction, and seemed to assess him for several moments, tiny head tilted to the side, ears swiveling back and forth.

He tried to move, to twitch, to do anything but sit there like a statue as the thing hopped forward out into the room. Logic told him that it was probably just a stray animal that had found its way into his closet through the numerous holes in the siding. But the hunter side of him warned not to let his guard down. His hunter side won out. However he was still just a kid, and so he found himself frozen in place, unable to move from fear.

However, when the thing started coming towards the bed, hopping closer and closer with every passing minute, Sammy managed to finally find his voice.

"DAAADDYYY!"

John had not been thrilled at being waken up at 1:30 in the morning by a distraught, terror filled scream. He had rushed into the room, gun drawn, expecting to find some monster terrorizing his son, only to find nothing. He had looked around, checking all the corners, all the shadows, still he had found nothing. He relaxed slightly and turned his attention to his sobbing, distraught son.

"What's wrong, Sammy? What is it?"

All the young boy could do was point a shaking finger at his open closet. Where the little shape had disappeared to he was not sure. John turned and approached it, pistol up, ready to fire at the fist hint of movement. But again, nothing was there. Finally he turned back to Sam and approached him carefully.

"Calm down and tell me what's the matter."

His commanding voice seemed to jolt Sam out of his fright, because the nine year old stopped sobbing abruptly, running a shaking fist across his eyes. He gave his father a solemn stare.

"There was s-somthing in my closet. I-it was small, and it hopped out towards me."

John stared at him in disbelief. It was not that he did not take Sammy seriously, it was that he had taught his sons how to deal with this stuff on their own, without having to rely on anyone else. If this thing was small, then Sam should have been able to take care of it on his own. He restrained himself though, for the moment.

"Could you tell what it was?"

"No, it was too dark. But it had tall things coming out of its head, I think they were ears. And it hopped instead of walked, and it was really small."

Something clicked in John's mind, and he scowled.

"A rabbit? You woke me up in the middle of the night because a rabbit somehow found its way into your room? God damn it Sammy! You know how important this case is! I can't afford to be groggy or tired on this one! Go to sleep! And the next time you wake me up had better be because you're about to be mauled by a werewolf or something!"

"Bu-but I'm scared."

He tossed his .45 to the miserable young boy and stormed out of the room, absently ordering Dean to go back to bed as he spotted the thirteen year old peering out of his bedroom door.

His Dad's bedroom door slammed shut and Sam flinched at the sound. He sniffled sadly and clutched the gun his Dad gave him. He looked around in fright and whimpered quietly. He wanted to go to Dean, but he did not want to incur either his brother's or his father's wrath any more than he already had.

00000

The next day, Sam could tell that his Dad was in a foul mood. He was snappish, and more gruff than usual, not even bothering to greet either of his sons when they came down to eat their breakfast. He left with nothing but brief instructions for Dean to be good and not answer the door or the phone. Sam was miserable, having not been able to get any sleep at all the previous night, he was tired and still slightly scared of what the house could hold.

Dean was not talking to him, obviously taking his cue from their Dad. All in all, Sam spent a miserable day in solitude, sitting out on the back porch, not eating and not speaking. He was trying to puzzle out the mystery of what had been in his room. He knew it was not a regular rabbit. It could not have been. Rabbits were not that small, and it could not have been a bug or some other such thing.

He stayed outside until Dean called him in for a supper of hot dogs and Spaghetti-O's. Dean still was not talking to him, but Sam did not mind. Normally he would be sad, but right now he had a lot on his little mind, and he was mulling over plans in his head. After dinner he retreated to his room and cautiously approached the closet, his dad's .45 in hand. He hesitated just outside the door, gazing into the now brightly lit interior. It did not look scary. But Sam knew from his Dad's teachings that looks could be deceiving.

He crept forward slowly, eyes darting around to take in every inch of the closet. It was empty now, only the boxes and his backpack remained that he could see. He cautiously nudged his bag with a toe. When it did not do anything unbag-like he picked it up and dragged it out into the room, then plopped down on the bed with it. He went through all the compartments in it, looking for anything out of place or that did not belong there. He found nothing. He let out a long sigh of relief.

Next he did the same with the boxes. He also found nothing inside them, other than some clothing from the previous owners. Now the closet was empty save a few cobwebs. Sam eyed it critically. He could not see any obvious places where anything, bunny or other, could have gotten in, other than a small crack that ran the bottom length of the inside wall.

He heaved a sigh. Maybe he had just imagined it? It had not been the first time that Sam had gotten spooked in a new location and imagined things. Like the one time in Wisconsin when they were renting an apartment and he had imagined someone was trying to break in. It had turned out to have only been the neighbor's dog scratching on the wrong door.

He was about to turn to go beg Dean to talk to him again, figuring that he had just imagined what ever the thing had been, when movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. He sprung into a defensive position as he whirled around to face the source of the movement. He froze in shock.

There, sitting near the crack in the wall, was a tiny, fuzzy pink bunny. He stared at it, wide eyed with shock and it stared back. Its nose twitched. Sam's arm twitched. It sat back on its hunches and rose onto its hind legs, still eying Sam and sniffed the air. Sam gave a frightened squeak and scrambled back. He tripped over one of the boxes and fell, crab walking when the bunny started hopping towards him.

He let out a startled squeak when the bunny, instead of trying to eat him, dropped into what was unmistakably a bow. Sam's jaw dropped to the floor as the tiny pink bunny spoke in a squeaky high pitched voice.

"Welcome, my Lord!"

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Sentient pink dust bunnies are annoying, what with worshipping anything and everything bigger than they are, but they're good eating! They are excellent when dipped in chocolate sauce and eaten with popcorn. 


	2. Believe 2

**-Believe-**

"Hello? Mr. Giles? My name is Sam, I found your name in my Dad's journal. The journal said that you know about unusual creatures and demons so I decided I needed to call you since my Dad and Dean won't listen to me."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.

"Hello Sam, could I ask who your father is? I am afraid I have rather a lot of contacts and I sometimes get them confused."

"Winchester, John Winchester is my Dad."

"O-oh. Er, I am sorry, but I can not help you. If you really do need help with something then call someone closer to you than England."

There was a click and silence on the other end. Sam sighed in frustration and hung up as well. Even in England his Dad had made people mad at him! He sat dejectedly in the hallway for several minutes until a squeak at his feet caught his attention. It was one of the many dozens of bunnies from his closet. It was bowing at his feet, squeaking about gods and messiahs returning to give their blessings. It must have followed him from upstairs.

00000

"Dad! The dust bunnies are trying to worship me again!"

"Sam, what have I told you! There is no such thing as sentient dust bunnies! Now quit stalling and go to sleep!"

00000

"Dean, the dust bunnies want me to be their god."

"Alright Sammy, what ever you say. Hey, why don't you have them sit under the table and eat our veggies for us?"

"But dust bunnies don't eat veggies."

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed in irritation. He had better things to do that listen to his brother go on about sentient pink dust bunnies. He looked up from cleaning his Dad's gun collection and gave the younger boy a patronizing smile.

"What do they eat then."

"Grapes and Irish cheese."

The look Dean shot Sam was so bewildered that Sam had to stifle a giggle. He knew that no one believed him about the bunnies, and it was so frustrating that his brother and father, both of whom believed in and actively hunted creatures that most other people would think them crazy just for talking about, would not believe him. Him! Who never lied unless there was a legitimate reason, and who would spill his guts to his father with a mere glance from the older man.

He would have captured one of the little bunnies and just showed it to his Dad and Dean as proof, but the little critters were fast, and obviously did not want anyone but Sam to see them. He supposed that he could just order one to show itself to his dad or brother. But he knew that most likely both of their reactions would be to shoot first and ask questions later, and Sam felt that the tiny pink bunnies were too cute to be squashed or shot.

00000

The day his Dad finished up his hunt in the sleepy little town was a sad day. Dean quietly complained as he packed up his meager possessions, unhappy at having to leave behind a pretty neighbor girl who let him touch her boobs on a regular basis. Dad could be heard cussing and swearing as he argued with one of his hunting contacts over the phone, trying to secure them a place to stay for the next hunt that was not a seedy hotel room or broken down one room apartment. As for Sam, he was crouched in his closet, sniffling quietly and looking down at his 'subjects' as they wailed in tiny voices and threw themselves upon his feet, begging him not to forsake them.

He tried consoling them the best he could but they would not be soothed. They cried and followed him to the top of the stairs, but no further as he dragged his backpack down the steps and made his way outside to the Impala. As the sleek black car carried him from the house and the bunnies, Sam could not help but gaze out the rear window and feel sad. He had learned during his time in that house that there were some strange beings in the world that were not evil like the things he and his family hunted. He was also slightly disappointed. He had liked being worshipped.

Later that night as Sam huddled against Dean in the back seat of the Impala trying to sleep, his light doze was interrupted by a quiet but quite audible squeak from his bag where it rested on the floor behind the drivers seat. A tiny pink dust bunny peered out at him from an unzipped flap. He blinked and grinned tiredly as Dean's breath hitched and he felt his brother tense up. Maybe they would believe him now.

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Dust bunnies are so CUTE!!!!!!! -_huggles one and then eats it-_

Anyway, disclaimer time!

I do not own or claim to own any characters, items, settings, etc. that are recognizable as belonging to either the tv show Supernatural, or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I make no profit from their usage.


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